In Defense of Friendship In Media

This past Wednesday, a report was making its way around social media. Many were quick to make fun of the notion that Generation Z (Gen-Z) generally prefers media that reflects platonic friendships to sex and romance. The study, done by UCLA, focused on an age group that ranged from 10-24 and featured a diverse body. I’m sure that most people who were quick to comment didn’t read the 24-page report and instead considered it part of the recent puritanical movement complaining about sex scenes in films. Suddenly the conversation went from asking for specifics to assuming this simply meant that the 1,500 participants were sex averse. While I’m sure there’s a substantial portion of the demographic that feels that way, I kept thinking about why the quick write-off never felt worth making fun of.

I will preface by saying that I am a Millennial. At no point will I claim to speak for Gen-Z outside of this report. I may make assumptions, but they will be more geared to my personal association with media. As an asexual, there’s something that has always felt messy about discussing sex in media. On the one hand, the stereotype is to assume I’m prudish and turn my eye at every inch of flesh. That’s far from the truth. I’m actually very pro-sexual content so long as it’s consensual and safe. In the case of the film discourse, I think that sex can be used to express a level of vulnerability and intimacy that is unlike any other. You get a passion that resonates through the most artful depictions. Sex is part of life. Sex is creation. It always disappoints me that the general concept remains taboo while violence is often glorified to fetishistic levels. To me, violence is destruction, and I think speaks to our unwillingness to be vulnerable.

If I were to judge this conversation on those parameters, I would say that Gen-Z are young and will hopefully recognize the diversity of storytelling as they mature. However, there was something about the headline that spoke more to me as an asexual. This wasn’t a conversation about using sex as a plot device. It was more about what type of stories the consumer wanted to see. They were described as platonic and about friendship. Suddenly, I became a lot more sympathetic. 

When I was 18, one of my favorite movies was Juno (2007). While it’s theoretically a movie that exists in the aftermath of sex, I was much more interested in protagonist Juno MacGuff as a person. She was this eccentric girl with a language all her own. The more that I watched it, the more I realized that I was infatuated with her. As someone often more attracted to personality types, I realized that what I wanted was to be her friend. Even in other movies, I never actively wanted to have sex with the characters I admired. These characters were often a bit oddball and generally platonic, to begin with, but one thing became clear. People were confused as to why I was obsessed with Juno. She wasn’t “sexy.” What kind of fantasy was I trying to live out?

As one can assume, I grew up throughout the 2000s. It was a glory day for the raunchy comedy. I went to the high school where American Pie (1998) was filmed and almost every month brought with it a visit to theaters where posters of scantily clad women’s bodies (usually from behind and not entirely in focus) promised the latest attractions. If you were a man, you were going to get enough ogling for your buck. My sister has discussed her own discomfort while being driven to middle school where morning DJs openly objectified women. For better or worse, growing up in the 2000s was a cesspool of hormones. When I went to a taping of The Tonight Show in 2007, Jay Leno didn’t ask Lindsay Lohan about her new movie Bobby (2007) but her reckless party antics. Sex was everywhere, likely rippling from what Karina Longworth would call “The Erotic 90s.” Given that I hung out with boys, they quickly made their perversions known.

I bring this up because I feel like my generation, like many before, was sold on the idea that sex was considered the most important thing in the world. The whole point of American Pie is to lose your virginity by graduation. It’s a pressure that I assume has faded but lingers in Millennial narratives to a painful degree. Elsewhere, Paris Hilton sold us cheeseburgers while being sprayed by a hose in a bikini. Even if I grew up in a Catholic environment that was *supposed to be* more conservative, there was something not entirely off-limits about sex by the time I was in middle school. In fact, I feel like it was almost encouraged. Maybe it was to normalize, but even then, I had to wonder… is there harm in presenting these messages to a young and impressionable audience?

It may not seem that important to understand the study, but I think it speaks to certain expectations. We were sold the idea that if a man loved a woman, they were having sex. They would get married. It was all happy ever after. Go back even to Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937) and you see this play out in the laziest of ways (though there’s a fun alternative read that The Prince is leading her to heaven in the end). There was pressure that the media had to live up to. If you were single, you were blood in the water surrounded by sharks. They would make you fit the mold. You had to get married. You had to fulfill the narrative. Keep the population going. Who cares if you mean it? People who grow old and are alone are crazy, and who wants that? Respect family values.

Scene from Bride Wars

Again, I am not against sex in media. In the right circumstances, it makes sense as emotional character growth. However, I think something became clear to me as a consumer once I grew old enough to explore indie cinema and find less predictable tales. I had been sold a bunch of terrible Matthew McConaughey romantic comedies. Films like Bride Wars (2007) were so toxic that I was repulsed at the idea of THAT being love. It took a long time to discover that there was a respectable wing of romantic dramas that actually gave their characters humanity. Even then, I quickly realized that by making this essential to every plot ultimately ruined my experience. Not everyone deserved to be together. Much like my own life, I was more interested in seeing them as friends because once they became something more, they fell into cliches. Throw the rice. Ring the bells. It’s such a limiting way to look at life.

I should say that because of my own bafflement at this, I never understood the idea of shipping characters. I didn’t grow up reading the “eye fucking” of characters that made sex invisible. I just wanted everyone to be friends and enjoy platonic activities. After all, life is more than sex. It’s just often talked about because of how buzzy the conversations can get, where to express any affection is to suggest something deeper. To me, it’s always been a crutch that hides us from more nuanced explorations. Why can’t I say “I like you” without risking speculation of something deeper? It’s why men are often guarded about their emotions. It’s why a man and woman hanging out often leads to “sitting in a tree.” They cannot just enjoy each other’s company without making one think that destiny is at play. To me, I’d like more stories of people who randomly hang out and nothing meaningful happens after. It’s just for the memories.

Which is why I sympathize with Gen-Z in the report. Besides the fact that asexuals made up the third-biggest sample of sexual orientations in the survey behind straight and bisexual, I recognize that there’s a more interesting discourse at play. They are a generation that grew up during economic collapse, political disarray, and a global pandemic. The report suggests that some of their prime bonding years were lost to COVID-19 and (if they’re like me) aren’t engaging with the world in the same ways emotionally. Many would prefer public spaces to online dating. They believe that their online selves are overpowering their public activities. Whereas I could grow to lack a sense of hope, I can imagine it feels worse for them because the current infrastructures aren’t exactly airtight. 

Again, I don’t speak for Gen-Z but more that I can relate to their general view around media. There was talk about how there wasn’t a “third place” for friends to hang out without potential accusations of loitering. An additional resource provided by UCLA commented on a decline in friendship groups. There’s an increasing sense of loneliness, which likely explains why they turn to social media and streaming media for connection. They consider TikTok to be the most authentic and, as someone who once spent hours on there to feel less alone, I can see why. While I prefer YouTube’s ability to present lengthier essay-style videos, TikTok provides you a connection to a stranger and makes you feel like you’re their friend. Because of the algorithm, you are able to find your tribe quickly and, hopefully, a group that will make you feel loved and wanted. The report suggests that they prefer videos by Mr. Beast because of the suggestion that he helps others. In a sense, this is all a journey of trying to find hope in the world.

I do think it also helps that Gen-Z is front and center of a larger debate around identity. The most noteworthy is that their generation is the most likely to identify as LGBTQIA+. There’s a willingness to engage with social activism and question the societal norms that came before. While Millennials arguably had the platforms to do so, they were rudimentary and not as designed for quick and immediate interconnectivity. Gen-Z got to study the results and find the best way to use the resources. While I think they’re as faulty in their reasoning as any other generation, their self-awareness has made me wonder how far things will go. 

The one thing I’m proudest of with modern discourse is the deconstruction of amatanormativity, or the idea of sex and marriage being essential to a happy life. What is clear is that Gen-Z is more willing to question why we took those things for granted instead of finding a new way to live life. After all, the future looks dark and there’s no reason to spend it following a rulebook that doesn’t fit. There have been decades of “take my wife, please” jokes along with endless divorces that deconstruct the Boomer vision of the perfect family. Everything is falling apart and, hopefully, that means things will be rebuilt to something better. We are living in a very self-aware time. When you’re lonely, the thing you want most is not a sexual partner, but just someone to talk to.

I also think it goes back to a theory that Longworth has been working off of for the past two years on You Must Remember This. As she’s explored erotic cinema of the 1980s and 90s, she has argued that the mainstream normalization of sex in film is tied to things like Reagan Era capitalism and power. Nothing is more cinematic in visualizing power than having someone dominate another person sexually. You can throw money at someone to bend to your will and experience pleasure. 

Scene from Carol

I don’t know that this is necessarily in line with the recent generation being less interested in sex in film, but I think it speaks to a certain mentality. Whereas I mostly enjoy sex scenes in films where it’s a mutual experience and notice a shared sense of joy – such as Carol (2015) – I think that there’s the notion that sex is so associated with power that some can see it as vulgar and oppressive. We as a society haven’t fully moved to a more complicated view of sexuality than that, and it makes sense that Gen-Z wouldn’t want to see it. For example, Euphoria is geared at Gen-Z but more often than not features sex as one actor being dominant and potentially abusive. There’s a scariness to it that removes the allure. Most of all, Gen-Z (like Millennials) aren’t sure they’ll ever have power to begin with. They’ll never be dominant.

This is all speculation and for all I know, could be way off. I think Gen-Z simply has a different view of the world. I would like to think that they will come to recognize the value of sex in film, but again I don’t think that’s what’s being discussed in the UCLA study. It was misconstrued in order to reach a wider audience. Why? Because, if you didn’t know, sex sells. It always has. This was a larger report about what type of media Gen-Z is watching with very little of it actually being sex oriented. They are simply a generation tired of being given messages that are insincere and trope-filled. They want something more honest and organic. Given their current environment, friendship and survival sounds much more ideal than imagining a world of affluence and debauchery.

I close by saying that I don’t speak for Gen-Z. I’m not even sure that I speak for Millennials as someone who never quite engaged with media the same way that my peers did. We were a generation sold on sex. There was even torture porn like Hostel II (2007) that eroticized the naked body in a state of abuse. I think as a generation, we were still living under some form of The American Dream that still made sense. Sure, Generation X was built on defiance but one could imagine a world where prosperity emerged. After all, Bill Clinton had balanced the budget and economy. Before we really had access to a narrative that wasn’t fed to us by TV, we had to believe what the news anchor said. We could believe in prosperity. Meanwhile, you look out the window today and everyone is on strike and demanding change. They’re literally begging for a decent living.

So yes, I still think sex in media is important to reflect the full human experience. However, I think that making fun of Gen-Z for this report is a bit unfair and misunderstood. There’s no testimony within the pages to suggest that they’re against sex in healthy relationship depictions. They just don’t want to be booby-trapped into a narrative where two people fall in love because that’s what centuries of storytelling expect of them. I admire that about them because I too would like something more complex. I believe it can lead to positive change and make people see the world as something more than a land needing to be fertilized. Maybe sometimes all that needs to be done is find comfort in being there. Given how dystopic parts of the modern age have been, a companion is more than ideal. 

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